Death's Own Kiss
by C.Watherston
Summary: The love that lasts the longest is a love that can never be. Godric's Queen and Slytherin's Prince; a collection of stories that the muse dropped haphazardly on my mind.
1. Our story

_**Death Eater's Kiss**_

_**Brought together by Fate.  
>Bound by passion.<br>Separated by war. **_

_**Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was vanquished by the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One Harry Potter. His death did not, however, end his dark reign. The war against the Dark raged on after the Battle of Hogwarts and those soldiers who began the conflict as children must rise up now to see the end of the Death Eater followers. **_

_**Hermione Jean Granger, the famous Gryffindor Princess, and her lover, the adopted Drake Black, have already stood against a tide of dissent in the face of their love. Their journey was never an easy one. It was a hard road their feet were thrown to, and the journey had only just begun. Now they are safe only in the knowledge that they will always find a way to be together; that is an obstacle which they have long since been able to overcome. **_

_**Before we begin, we must first go further back. To a simpler time. A time not so long ago...**_

**I am the girl who was Hermione Granger. **

_I am the boy who was Draco Malfoy. _

_**Us. **_

_Watching from a distance, and pretending for a moment that the distance made a difference. _

_Holding you, protecting you; the first time I've ever had anything to fight for. _

_Lioness_ **and the serpent...**

**Undisclosed**. _Forbidden. _

**The first time I saw you cry...**

_Guilty pleasure, a dirty little secret; I was cheating on everything I'd ever believed in_

**Fire and ice**, _the heat of her skin on mine_, _**beautiful...**_

_Protecting her, holding her, wishing I could..._

_**Attraction like nothing else; nothing we could do about it. **_

**Bad boy**. _Good girl_. _**Breaking the rules.**_

**Lips, dancing, tearing his shirt...laughter...**

_They were stolen moments from someone else's world. I kissed her with the taste of blood in my mouth. _

**I let him hold me...**

_The pain of letting her go...nearly killed me..._

**I wanted somewhere, some world, that didn't care. I wanted to meet him there...**

_Broke my own rule. Broke inside. Couldn't handle it without her. _**He kissed my neck while I was waiting outside class. **

_**Caught by Harry Potter against the Quidditch stands; **_**ecstasy. **

**Tell me! **_ I love you! _

_Her hand on my chest like nothing mattered. _

_Arrogance _**red wine** _**sunsets**_ _flying_. **Crimson and gold**, _silver and green_.

**Grey eyes **_brown eyes; __**catch me as I fall. **_

_For a moment I wished I were colour blind. _

_MINE!_

_Kissing her goodbye the last day of school burned in my mind all summer. _

**No finer line than the one between love and hate. **

_Smelling like her skin and not minding. Kissing her through the bars of her cage, tasting her blood on my lips..._

**Holidays in Muggle world pretending we didn't belong anywhere else. Those were soft summer days in the arms of the enemy. **

**Hold onto me**. S_he changed me_.

_Reality_ **fake**.

**Pressed against the back, dusty bookshelves and talking for hours in the sun; fates a strange thing. **

_No trust. Hatred. Going back. _

_Secret notes noticed in class but nobody speaks. They know this thing of ours is forbidden. They feared the two of us our sins, as if it was a contagious disease and we didn't give a damn. _

**Trapped between him and the wall. Drove him crazy seeing me with Krum...**

**They never cared** _but she did_.

_Hero__**.**_** He changed**.

_When I said to Potter I'd do whatever it took to keep her safe, I meant it. For the first time in my life, I meant it. _

**Choices**. _Silence._ **Hidden desire.**

_**Intervention**_. _Tried to forget_. **The fine line**.

**Pieces left behind**. _Obsession._ _**Torn apart**_. **War**. _Sides; I stepped over for you._

_The phoenix. Holding on till I could see her again. _

**Ron and Luna.** _Running never catching up._

**Asking for help**. _Asking to be saved. _

**Go back to the beginning.** _Before everything._

_First kiss. _

**First dance.**


	2. It begins

He watched her from his dark corner where he could not be seen. Hidden in the curved shadows, the desire raging in his eyes was hidden from the world...but not from her. No, to her his emotions were written across his iron mask like a broadcast.

So he watched her from this distance, and pretended that the distance divided them. But it didn't. Because he, Draco Malfoy, was so damn wrapped up in her no distance could ever divide them.

He couldn't remember their first kiss, not really. He'd fallen on top of her near the lake on the run from Fred and George Weasley back in second year; the one time since the Chamber had opened that he'd stepped out without Crabbe and Goyle at his back and the twins had pounced on him. Tangled in a mess of now muddy robes, flying parchment, sweet-smelling brown curls and furious, scratching nails at the bottom of the lake edge, a slope hidden by a strand of trees, he'd done the only thing he could think of to shut her up.

_From the first blurred, strange moment that he pressed his mouth to hers, he forgot everything. His name, his house, his father's sneering face and the brand being shoved in his face at every given opportunity, the same words repeated; this is your destiny! There was only this body beneath him, fighting him, then going still with shock and yanking away. They stared at each other; wide brown eyes, the flames of rage put out by shock and the icy touch of his lips, meeting cold grey orbs full of confusion and helpless want. _

_Then the moment, the one clear memory he would have of these foggy minutes; the way, then, that her pert pink tongue had darted out to moisten her lips as she dragged her plump bottom lip through her teeth. He knew she could taste him there, on her sweet bottom lip as her sharp white teeth caressed it hard. Then he was kissing her again, a blazing inferno exploding in his chest that he was really too young to understand. It should have been the awkward, mostly slimy embraces he'd snuck with Slytherin girls. He should have looked back on it in utter horror. _

_But he didn't. _

_Because she kissed him back. Soft, hesitating contact of lips, moving across one another chastely until he flicked out his tongue to taste her plump bottom lip and she gasped, letting him pull in into his mouth, making her shudder. _

"_Hermione-" he gasped unthinkingly, without meaning to, breaking the spell, shattering it like a mirror on stone. They looked at each other and cursed in unison, rolling and tumbling to their feet. Somewhere in the distance he heard Fred (or George) shout out to their friend Lee. She looked over her shoulder towards the sound, and then whirled to face him again. Her tangled hair was splayed around her face as she spun, her eyes glowing in the dim grey light of the corpse. Uselessly, his mouth opened and closed soundlessly, and then he turned and headed out of the corpse, stumbling into the sunlight and striding back towards the castle, head spinning sickeningly. _

_Neither of them realised that at the moment he turned away and disappeared, they were both thinking exactly the same thing; _

_**What in the name of Merlin's saggy arse just happened? **_

It should have been so, _so _simple. He'd meant it to be the last time; surely, feeling her give in to his kiss, their hearts thudding fast both from this tidal wave of desire and from the overwhelming fear of being caught.

"_If you breathe a word..." she trailed of, threat in the hand under her robes on her wand, in the new blazing embers in her honey brown eyes. He'd been distracted by the rapid rise and fall of her pert body between him and the rough wall behind her, by the delicious red swelling of her lips and had looked up sharply at her words. Of course, she would remember first who they were and what it was that they were doing and the implications of those two factors together. _

_He'd be disinherited probably. Never mind that, he'd never be able to stand up to the boys and girls whose families were twenty generations of pure bloods and in that automatically detested Muggle-borns, Blood Traitors and anyone else who didn't fit into the cookie cutter mould of a Pure Blood wizard family. _

_Hermione...she'd never be able to look Harry or Ron in the face again. They'd hate her guts for this betrayal. Especially Ron. Her reputation would, without a doubt, soar to new heights as the girl who'd seduced Draco Malfoy, while Draco's would plummet as the Pure Blood who kissed a Muggle-born Mudblood Gryffindor, but she was in no way ready to sacrifice that for her friends. _

It hadn't been enough just to kiss her. He wanted to possess her, make her shatter so he could put the pieces back together in a new way; he wanted to break the perfect Gryffindor Princess just to see how she would.

So why wasn't it that simple? Why did it have to be so hard to watch her laughing and talking and arguing her way through their classes, her hand stuck straight in the air as she fought to prove herself to Snape, Flitwick, whoever it happened to be. Why wasn't it something he could brush off when word came she had been petrified by the basilisk? Why had he tossed and turned and had nightmares about the moment she had turned to cold grey stone?

And what in Merlin's name possessed him to sneak out of his bed in the middle of the night and sit by her bedside in the infirmary, just staring at her? It happened too fast; the focus of his thoughts had started out lustful, red hot fantasies about nude skin and warm sweat on satin sheets. Now he saw her laugh, the way her eyes changed their shade of brown when she was mad or excited or deep in thought.

He'd almost, shyly, come to the decision to say something when, _if, _she awoke he would tell her. On his second venture into the infirmary, he'd actually kissed her; a strange, instinctive, vulnerable gesture of a prince trying to awaken his princess. It was _her _fault he'd hated her again; she didn't have to sprint down the middle of the dining room like her life depended on reaching _him, _didn't have to throw her arms around his neck like he was her only life ring in a stormy ocean.

_Potter!_

She didn't look at him _once. _So he'd tried desperately to hate her. He'd lost his virginity on the break, in his own mind a vicious stab at Hermione Mudblood Granger. The venture had not been as successful as he'd wanted it to be, however. The sex had been great; the seeds of guilt that he couldn't shake were not. They weren't together, he owed her nothing, _so why did he feel like he'd swallowed a Quaffle? _To add insult to injury, the frizzy haired _bitch _didn't even know what she was doing to him!

He didn't know she cried when she saw him on the train, the Slytherin girl that Pansy glared and snarled at hanging on his arm. He didn't know she had to block it out, block _him _out, or the pain would kill her.

So she retreated behind an indifferent mask and an ever present book. He slunk to hide behind his new found sexuality and his icy demeanour.


	3. Running away

He watched her now. Because she was in his head, blood, heart and soul. She'd seeped in there like a mist, turned to dew as the rising sun catches it between golden fingers. She'd made the blackness inside him beautiful. As the year went on, he came to need that more and more.

"Has 'Mione been acting strangely lately?" asked Harry with a frown, staring after his curly-haired friend as she disappeared into the morning rush towards class. Ron looked up from a plate of bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns, beans and sausages to follow his best mate's green-eyed gaze.

"Well...yeah, I 'spose. But she always acts a big strange towards the end of the year. Exams and all that"

Harry took one last, fleeting look at the spot he'd lost sight of Hermione and turned back to his food. After all, he had other things to worry about. He picked up the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet _and tried to ignore a sharp twitch in his forehead.

Meanwhile, Hermione checked over her shoulder as she headed outside into the freezing morning. Owls returning to the owlery after morning mail swooped and hooted overhead as she headed across the grounds. On the edge of the lake was a grove of trees, mostly aspens, but there was one ancient old weeping willow, hunched like a sobbing maiden over a trickling spring that giggled into the black heart of the lake. Conscious of the load of books in her arms, Hermione slid down the tricky bank where the roots of the willow loomed and jutted like the veins of a junkie. An accurate metaphor, really; for the last two years, an addiction had been fed here.

He stepped out of the dappled shadows of the tree, sunlight glinting on his blonde hair and catching, curving to shine on his seductive smirk.

"Hey there Brown Eyes"

She smiled helplessly. She loved his nickname for her.

"Draco..." she breathed his name like a prayer. They stood, an arm's length apart, taking each other in as the golden morning broke over the silver night. Where they stood now, Hermione was caught in the silver-black shade of the grove while Draco seemed to glow, captured by the fiery red rays of the early morning sun.

"Are you alright?" she woke herself from her daydreaming and got down to business. He blinked, as thought wakening from a dream, and looked at what she had in her hand. Her coin, a Galloon, the one twin to his; she'd charmed them so they could communicate times and places to meet. It was a link to her that he found himself clinging to stupidly. Whenever he saw her in the corridors, he would instinctively drop a hand to his pocket to touch to cool metal, wishing it would warm in his hand; the signal that they got to meet.

"It's getting so hard to see you" he muttered, whining really. She nodded in agreement and looked out over the lakes.

"It's just a little longer; until exams are over..."

"When exams are over I'll be gone...Father wants me home" he forced the words out.

She swallowed, dropping her head. He felt his heart clench and pulled her gently into his arms, into the warmth of the crimson gold sun. Her eyes turned to liquid amber honey and red streaks glittered in the rich brown of her curls. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the spicy, sharp scent that she could never name, and the smell of ice and warm, crisp ironing. It was a strange combination, but more than often it haunted her late-night musings. The muscles her ear rested on were hard from years of Seeker training and plain survival in the house of Malfoy, the heart beneath them strong and steady.

He'd hardly had the picturesque upbringing that she and her friends imagined for him; Lucius was a cold, cruel man, and his mother was smothering of him and terrified of Lucius. With good reason; as much as he didn't talk about it, he got a haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of nights alone in the cold of his personal wing of the house, wondering if his mother would crawl helpless and bloody into his bed. He'd laughed bitterly the first time he'd talked about it; it was the first time he'd ever spoken about it to anyone. Pure-bloods did not speak of the atrocities that may occur behind closed doors.

She fitted against him like she was made for him, her cattish curves slotting into his hard angles. The first time he'd ever been with a girl it had been planned and paid for with popularity. The Slytherin girl from a lower class family was suddenly way up in the ranks. The first time he'd been with Hermione had been pure instinct, pure heat, fire, tangled, slow, fast, careful, impatient and the marks of it had stayed long after scratches on his back and marks on their necks had faded.

"_This is a bad idea...a really bad...idea" _

_He was nodding, even as he scraped her blouse out of its neat tuck, groaning at the feeling her naked abdomen against his fingertips. She arched into his arms, gasping, panting, eyes black with lust. _

"_Bad idea...we should-"_

_He should really, _really _stop being such a damn good teacher; her lips were absolute torture, pure, blissful, blazing, burning, _branding _sweet torture. He swore and lifted her higher on the wall she was trapped against, helpless little sounds low in her throat as he swept his tongue teasingly over hers, a low, surprised gasp as he kissed the long, graceful white column._

_Desire, lust, want and need in a boiling knot in his chest. He'd tasted the salt in the hollow of her throat, the strawberries and cherries on her lips, the forbidden softness in the hollows of her mouth. _

_She'd turned her head and taken over, pressing up towards him, slanting her mouth to his, taking his breath away, stealing his soul, burning his pride as he melted before it. His shirt had, at some stage, slid off his broad, strong shoulders to puddle on the floor. _

"I needed to see you. I...come away with me"

It was voiced as an order. She stiffened in his arms and pulled away, not hard enough to make him let go. She just wanted to look at his face, read the wide honesty in his steel eyes. Her jaw dropped, a reaction he would forever find endearing, but it sure as hell wasn't the one he was looking for right now.

"_What?" _she finally managed to spit out. He swallowed.

"These holidays, just a couple of weeks, a couple of _days _if that's too much, but _please...-_" she started and he knew why; Draco Malfoy did not say 'please' under any circumstances.

"We'll go anywhere, anywhere at all. Pick a place, Brown Eyes, and I'll take you there. Anywhere but here. Anywhere; Jesus, Hermione if you tell me you want to go to Australia I'll do it!"

She hesitated for a second, her unbelievable brain finally working at the speed of mere mortals.

"Why?"

He kissed her, slamming his lips to hers, pressing her so close they were in danger of merging into one creature, gaining entry to shocked mouth and feeling her ignite beneath him. Panting a little, he pulled away and sucked in the smell of her skin, the wafting scent of her hair and the clean crisp of parchment and cleanliness on her robes. Her fingers were tangled in the shorter hair at the back of his neck, her light breath warm and sweet against his collarbone. She fitted under his chin and he kissed the top of her bushy hair.

"Because...because you're mine. Mine! And I want to scream it to a whole street of people but I can't do it here because it'll get you killed!-" he pulled back so he could make the ever-wonderful mistake of getting lost in those deep brown eyes- "I want to hold you. In daylight. And be seen. And for everyone to know"

"Draco-"

"I know it's impossible _here _but that's why I want to go away!"

"What about your parents?"

He was quiet and looked away for a moment with a cold look in his eyes.

"I'll tell them the truth. I'm going to spend a few weeks holiday with a fantastic lay" he looked at her and grinned cheekily. She blushed and slapped him mockingly, which only made him grin further. She laughed a little at herself; who was she kidding? As soon as the words had left his mouth she'd been going to say yes. After that beautiful little speech, what woman in their right mind wouldn't disappear into some Mediterranean wonderland with this infuriatingly arrogant, sexy as all get out wizard? She smiled.

"Yes. I'll, bloody hell! I'll run away with you, for as long as you can stand me"

His face remained deadpan.

"Oh I really wouldn't say that; I may never let you go"

Then a grin split his usually sneering or stoic features and he wrapped his long arms around her, swinging her around with a whoop. She squealed, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck and holding on for dear life.


	4. Making a choice

_He just wanted one more touch, one more taste. The thirst would be quenched, this little craving dealt with. _

Present-day Malfoy snorted at his past-self's naivety. Now he knew exactly the moment he had gone wrong. The minute she'd walked into him, back in first year on the train, taken one look and said;

"Oh sorry! Oh...you'll be in Slytherin"

She'd said it with such distaste he'd actually been too shocked to say anything. He wondered if she ever thought about that; the first time they ever met, she'd put him straightaway on the back foot. He should have know she was trouble at that exact moment. Instead, he was here, waiting for her with all the stoic loyalty of a dog.

"_You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach" _

They echoed back, again and again, cutting him deeper each time her voice repeated those words back at him through the weeks that had passed.

Who was he kidding? He'd spent three weeks of his summer wrapped up so closely in her that he felt like he was missing a limb when he got back to Malfoy Manor. Everything was so perfect, he should have know it would do wrong. He should have known he'd screw it up.

It was Crabbe's idea of course. Bloody Crabbe. The bloke might have been thick, but he made up for it with a twisted taste for violence, a sick humour streak a mile wide. He played a part, and if he hadn't gone, if he hadn't pretended it was his idea in the first place, even Crabbe and Goyle weren't dumb enough not to realise that something was up. But, he'd hoped, hoped upon hope, that _she _wouldn't come. She wouldn't see this; a betrayal of _them_. It had been bad enough to watch her face as he'd been carted off in Hagrid's arms, crying like a child. But it had bloody _hurt! _Not as badly as a back hand from his father, but if he hadn't made a show of it...

He'd just been playing a part, a role, and actor on a stage.

"_You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" _

"Hermione, come one...come _on!_"

He'd been waiting here in the shade of the willow for an hour. Then he'd go to their other hiding spot, the one now tainted by his memory of her furious expression as she'd witnessed his betrayal. Then he'd drift along the passages feeling like a damn Hogwarts ghost, looking for her.

Watching her walk with her friends, unchanged and not showing any sign of looking for him, was like a knife being twisted around in his chest. But for the life of him he couldn't let it lie. He'd tried. He'd spent three damn weeks trying. But Hermione Jean Granger was in his head, and blood and heart and he couldn't get her out.

He raised his face, eyes closed, to the darkening sky, and swore. Then he hunched his shoulders and strode away. There was too much; too much feelings, too much hurt. If he wasn't careful, this passion was going to turn into hate. Which made him wonder which would be worse...

"Where are you going Malfoy?"

"For a walk"

Crabbe looked confused and Goyle looked up from his Charms homework. There were two others sitting with them; a girl with a turned up nose who'd been falling pathetically at Draco's feet for a week, and a Chaser from the Quidditch team.

"Wha' by yerself?"

Draco stood up, deciding pointedly not to dignify that with an answer. The girl, _what was her name? _stood quickly.

"Oh I'll come, Malfoy" she gave him a sultry smile. Draco tried not to show his sudden nausea. For starters, her eyes were entirely the wrong colour...

"Don't" he said shortly, spinning on his heel and leaving. She looked after him, slack-jawed, and then turned angrily to the Chaser.

"What the hell is his problem?" she snapped. He looked up, smirked, and pointedly looked her up and down.

"Well, if he's not interested..."

She gave a violent cry of frustration and stormed off. Goyle chortled and the Chaser glared.

"Shut your bloody mouth, Goyle" he snarled. Without his master there to direct him, Goyle did so.

Meanwhile, Draco slid past the portraits settling in for the coming night. It was still a few hours till curfew, and all he had to do was make it to the third floor corridor without running into a prefect. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead; for the love of Merlin and in the name of Salazar, don't let him get caught. This, he knew, was his last chance.

"_Watch where you're going, Granger. Now I have to disinfect these robes" he snarled as he slammed into her shoulder striding into the dungeons. _

"_Rack off, you twisted bloody wanker" Ron exploded. Draco didn't even have to look to know he was backed by at least five Slytherins. Hermione, Ron and Neville were standing alone, and Ron was favouring his recently mended broken leg. Potter was nowhere in sight. _

"_Big words. Don't usually bother when your boyfriend's not around, Weasel. What happened to him? Black didn't do his job, did he?" _

_Ron's hands turned to fists. Draco snickered. _

"_Careful your head doesn't explode, Ronnie. Merlin only knows your parents couldn't afford to put that monstrosity back toget-"_

_Ron leapt at him, only to have Hermione step between them. _

"_Go jump you twot" she growled without looking at him, then put her arm around Ron's waist- "He's not worth it, Ron" _

_Draco's heart stopped. Her words stung. Worse, he knew what she was doing. He knew exactly what she was doing, and it was _bloody working. _He watched wordlessly, not hearing the Slytherin's around him cover his silence with their own barbed digs at the retreating Gryffindor's, as Ron put his arm awkwardly around her shoulders and they went inside. _

_As they took their seats, Draco didn't take his eyes from her. He waited, impatiently, for her to open her fist and see the square of folded parchment he'd forced into her hand. His heart soared when she dropped her hands below the desk and dropped her eyes to read the note. A moment later, she was turning to the appropriate page; one he knew she'd already memorised because she'd been reading it two days ago in the library. _

_Then she looked up at him, and their eyes met. Never had he seen those brown orbs so dispassionate, so cold. Dammit, it was like looking in some kind of warped mirror; brown eyes instead of his own grey. Holding his gaze, she slowly crushed the square in her fist and then, just in case his torn heart hadn't already got the message, she raised her wand and muttered something at her palm. The crushed ball burst into cold blue flames. _

_As Snape stormed into the dungeons, she closed her fist, extinguishing the flame. He watched in agony and rage as her luscious lips puckered to an 'O' and blew the ash from her palm. _

_He didn't hear a word of what was said in the entire lesson. He blocked out everything; even her voice. Her pointed, brilliant voice raising an argument against Snape's in favour of Wolfsbane. He even didn't snicker when the professor knocked ten points from Gryffindor. He just waited until they were dismissed. It seemed luck was finally on his side. _

_She left a glass tube of chopped armadillo tongue on her desk. Before anyone could notice, he strode past and snatched it swiftly. He trailed her out. He gave Crabbe and Goyle such a glare that they left him alone. She paused outside the dungeon doors, scrambling around in her bag. He heard her curse softly under her breath and turn; she didn't expect him to be right behind her. _

_That's when he saw it; the flash in her eyes, the way she drew a short, sharp breath through her nose. But he also saw the way her eyes narrowed and she tried to take a step back, but he'd grabbed her arm. With his other hand, he raised the tube. _

"_Looking for this?" he asked softly. She said nothing; anger flared in her eyes. _

_Merlin. Help. Him. She smelt too damn good, her skin too soft, her anger and her beauty all too invited. He felt something shatter inside him. Her pulse was pounding in her neck; the smooth, pale, slender, _inviting _column of her neck. Before he could stop himself, before he could let himself think, he bent his head and kissed that pulse, fleetingly. _

"_I need to see you" he murmured, and was gone. _

Never mind there'd been two opposing houses, dozens of them, eyes and ears and mouths that could report back to everyone who mattered. Never mind that it had been in the middle of the hallway. Never mind _Snape _could have seen, or worse, Potter and Weasel.

His heart beat very fast at the thought and he berated himself for his own stupidity. Suddenly, light footsteps echoed on the flagstones. He stiffened and pushed himself deeper into the shadows. A moment later, he relaxed, but he didn't move from his position deep in an alcove.

She paused and looked around. She looked over her shoulder and counted the suits of armour between the door onto this corridor and where she was standing.

"Brown Eyes..."

She whirled, hair splayed on her shoulders, to face him as he stepped out of the darkness; an ethereal creature borne of moonlight and shadows.

"This ends now, Malfoy. It's irresponsible and-"

It was very hard to rant when you were being kissed with such desperate, starving, hard fervour you were slammed backwards into the opposite wall. It was very hard to focus your thoughts when there were long, cool, talented hands that seemed to be everywhere at once. It was even worse when you had done nothing but deliberate and agonise, fighting logic, passion, culture, loyalty and lust and something infinitely more dangerous, and all of it had started with the boy trapping your hands above your head, thigh between your legs, forcing you onto your tiptoes to stand.

"If I hear another _fucking _word out of your _fucking _mouth that's not '_harder Drake, harder' _I will personally _end _you" he snarled, shoving her harder against the stone and desperately branding her neck with a scorching kiss. She gasped, sucking in ragged oxygen, her chest heaving. Her hands were tangled in his hair and robes.

"This is..._ridiculous _Malfoy!"

He raised his knee, scraping the fine material of his robes against the rough stone. She gasped, a high shallow inhale that was audio aphrodisiac. Against the raging pulse on her throat, he growled, sending vibrations through her skin.

"Wrong _fucking _words"

Hermione finally came back to senses that weren't saturated in lust, desire and helpless arousal and sat bolt upright.

"Oh, _bloody hell!_" she cursed, borrowing Ron's favourite phrase with equal panic and guilt. Draco chortled beside her.

"Missed me, Brown Eyes?"

She grabbed at her robes and found her shoes.

"You..._you! _Dammit, Drake, it's almost curfew, and we just had...we, you...in a damn classroom!"

Nonchalantly he looked around.

"Doesn't look very used"

Her jaw dropped as she scrambled into her clothes and she stared at him.

"_Drake! _Have you got _any _idea how much _trouble-_oh my _God!"_

He languidly stretched and reached over his head for his shirt.

" I never understood you Muggle's fascination with that concept-"

He'd stood to do up his pants when very suddenly he found himself with a vinewood wand under his nose. With her hair frizzing around her face, her robes only half tied and one hand clutched to her chest, she glared at him.

"This. Changes. _Nothing_" she enunciated clearly. He smirked.

"Oh, but I must disagree"

"And what the _hell _makes you think that I will _ever _forgive you for what you did?"

He wouldn't show his pain. He _refused _to show his pain.

"You called me my first name. Therefore, I'm off the hook"

"The hell you are!"

She lowered her wand and shoved his chest. Her eyes were blazing.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear; you are a _sick _wanker for what you did. Buckbeak could have _died_!-"

"I thought Buckbeak did die"

"Because you killed him! Your cowardice, your arrogance, your tendency to run home to your father in a desperate plea to gain some recognition from the _bastard-"_

She was fast, he'd give her that. Fiercely intelligent but ruled by her morals and her emotions. He felt a cold thrill and closed his eyes to hope to the Founders that she was never pushed too hard. Never pushed to the point that she lost faith in her morals, to the point she retreated from and abandoned the emotions that caused her so much pain and deliberation.

She'd be a dangerous Slytherin.

"Be _very _careful about where you go with that sentence, Hermione" he said warningly, folding his arms. They said nothing for a long time.

"I don't forgive you" she said sharply, as if it ended the conversation, and turned to walk away. His hand went into his pocket.

"Would be considered cheating, wouldn't it? Owning a Time-Turner? Sort of explains all these crazy rumours going around, about Sirius Black's miraculous escape from the Dementors. A Patronus they're saying. A very powerful one"

She turned slowly.

"_Accio Time-Turner" _she said crisply and caught it, one-handed, as he let it fly from his grasp. Her face was a mask. An angry, angry mask.

"See, one of us was paying attention while you were-"

"Don't"

He crooked his eyebrow at her interruption.

"Don't what?"

"Don't cheapen this" her words were forceful, convinced.

"I wasn't aware there was anything, Granger" his words were cold but his eyes were overflowing with fever and passion.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard, turning her head away sharply as if he'd hit her. For a long time, they were both silent, gathering their thoughts. They were on the edge of a precipice, and they both knew it. Here, and now, they'd have to admit that this _thing _they had was more than...

"I don't even know. I don't know anything anymore, Drake...there's...you, and me, and there's this..._mess _of everything else between us-"

"What else?"

She threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

"It's so damn _easy _for you! What did you say in the library? 'I am a Malfoy and I'll take what I want'? I'm for Harry, Drake. I'm against _everything _you stand for! Your pure-blood and your father and your family and...-" she cut herself off.

She made her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching for him as he approached on cat-like feet. His shirt was open, his tie undone around his neck, his robes pulled around his shoulders loosely. He looked wanton, ruffled, smooth and _lethally _beautiful.

"Stay with me"

"What?"

She was fixing her clothes, desperately giving herself something else to focus on. It was all too easy to get lost in his silver eyes if she didn't. Draco grabbed her hands.

"Listen when I'm talking to you, would you?"

She looked into his eyes.

"Stay. Figure this out with me. I...probably shouldn't feel like this...but...?"

She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully and for a moment Draco held his breath. The ball was in her court now; his words may not have made a lot of sense, but she understood. They were speaking with their eyes. Finally, she stood on her tip toes and kissed his lips.

"It could get dangerous"

His mouth twisted. He thought of his father's sneering features and his mother's black eyes.

"I know"

She kissed him again.

"Are you going to join...him?"

He kissed her back, the same short, burning touch, and with sudden conviction knew he wouldn't.

"No"

"Why not?"

"Because he'd hurt you. And you're not his to hurt"


	5. Wearing the enemy's signet

Should have run while he had the chance. Should have let her go. Shouldn't have let himself fall so damn hard, so damn fast.

He blamed his father for telling him that Malfoy's always got what they wanted. He blamed him for spoiling him; whatever Draco wanted, Draco got. It was because of that mentality that he was in this position. He could have been free to keep to his bubble of Slytherin morals, Pure-Blood ideals, and it would have been easy. Simple. He could have had a different girl every day, against the wall moaning his name.

Instead, he was standing merged with shadows as she exited her Ancient Runes class, laughing with a gaggle of girls. She spotted him immediately and extracted herself from the flock. He didn't move. He knew this routine by now. He knew it so well he could do it in his sleep and, if he were honest with himself, he often did.

She strode past him, hair fluttering like the battle standard of a barbarian king, her low heeled school shoes making a light clacking on the flagstones. Across the overpass he trailed her, making sure he was unseen. A shadow in a hood to cover his giveaway blonde hair. Suddenly she stopped, on the steps leading down to Hagrid's cottage, and turned around. He glanced over his shoulder to check there was nobody, and then pulled her to him.

This was their favourite spot. Only those on their way to Care of Magical Creatures every past here, and they could hear them coming from a long way off as footsteps echoed down the stone. It was dark and out of the elements and hidden. There were so many good memories tempered with the one of his betrayal. Yes, it had been a while before they'd come back here after the Buckbeak episode.

"Hermione Jean Granger" he said suddenly. She giggled.

"Why the sudden formality?"

He chuckled. The rich and seductive sound made her shiver in delight.

"I have no idea..."

He tucked her in the corner, trailed kisses down her jaw line. She sighed and hugged him to her. It was a regretful sound, and he knew why. It stabbed him with guilt. She was a sun goddess, a lay-on-the-grass-in-the-sun girl, not a crouched-in-the-shadows-like-an-animal girl. She linked their hands together and kissed his fingers.

Draco rested his forehead on hers and looked at their entwined hands. She wore a wide silver band on her middle left hand finger. He smirked and drew their hands to him so he could reveal the secret of that apparently simple band by twisting it around. It was a platinum House of Malfoy signet ring, set with the rearing snake head. When he came of age, a dragon standard would be added, making it his own personal symbol. But he didn't want to think about coming of age. For right now, sat just above Hermione's knuckle, branding her as his own. Even if the rest of the world didn't know it.

She looked at it as well, recalling the day he'd given it to her.

"_Firs' years this way! Watch yer step, there Finnegan-"_

_Hermione wasn't paying any attention to Hagrid or her friends as they battled the crowd to find a compartment. She was trying to convince Crookshanks that he was not being carried to a fate worse than death in his cat box, as he seemed so utterly sure he was. _

"_Shh, shh, shh! It's alright, Crooks, it's alright-"_

_A familiar, long-fingered hand caught her upper arm and tugged quickly before it was gone. She stood up and looked sharply around. Her Galloon had warmed as they were on the carts coming to the train, but she'd paid it no attention because it said 'At the station' as their meeting place. Was the boy completely mad? _

_A gleam of pale blonde caught her eye, ducking into the buildings on the Hogwarts train station. Quickly, she ducked through the tide of hurrying students as the second-to-last whistle rang. Under the shelter of the roof she glanced around and over her shoulder. Suddenly, the same grip hooked her around the waist and yanked her between two walls, in a hidden crevice. _

_She gasped in shock and slapped his chest. _

"_What the hell do you think you're doing, Drake?" she snapped as she checked quickly around them. nobody was there, obviously, because they were all getting on the train. _

"_I have to go!" she said pleadingly. _

"_Do you ever stop worrying?" _

_She glared. He smirked and took her hand, cradling it to his chest. She could feel his heart pounding under his expensive shirt and felt better; he wasn't as calm as he made out to be at least. _

"_They're not going to leave without their princess, darling, and I wanted to give you something..." _

_Before she could rebuke him for the jab at Gryffindor, she felt the embrace of cold metal as it slid down her finger and her heart stopped. Drake heard her little intake of breath and smiled from under his lashes. Her eyes were wide in the dark half-light, her hair damp from the drizzling morning. He kissed the ring before she saw it and let go of her hand. _

_Hardly daring to let herself see it, Hermione looked at her shaking hand, at the finger his burning lips hand just left. Her jaw dropped. _

"_Draco...my God, are you mad?" _

_He laughed and she clapped a hand over his mouth. She checked quickly over her shoulder towards the platform and turned back to her madman. _

"_You _are _mad! You'll get yourself killed!" _

_His eyes hardened. Hermione's heart leaped to her throat. She was so torn, ripped apart even, by internal conflict at the moment she couldn't even summon the words to tell him how much she loved it, how the symbol on her middle finger had swelled her heart until it hurt. She could, however, summon the words to tell him how reckless he was being; if they were discovered, the consequences for him were far more lethal than they would be for her. _

"_If you don't want it, Granger-"_

"_That's not what I'm saying!-" she kissed his lips to stop the foolish words tumbling out of his foolish mouth- "I'm saying, you're being reckless. I don't want you to get hurt" _

_He cupped her face. _

"_Don't go spreading this around, but I don't want you to, either" he joked. Then his face grew serious again and he raised the ring to her eyes. _

" _Which is why I'm giving you this...as long Father remains...powerful-" he spat the word like it tasted bad- "And you wear this, Muggle-born or not, you'll be safe. Or, at least...safer" _

_She searched his eyes. _

"_You're afraid, aren't you? Something's happening" _

_He bit the inside of his lip. The final whistle blew and they both flinched. He twisted the House of Malfoy signet ring backwards, so it looked like a simple steel band instead of the emblem of an enemy. Their eyes met. _

"_Go" _

_She didn't move. He nearly smiled at her stubborn look, but gave her a gentle push away. _

"_Brown Eyes, I can't leave until at least a few seconds after you or even your red-haired mate is going to put two-and-two together" _

_She snorted. _

"_And probably get a ten"_

_Draco chuckled and caught her chin. Their eyes clashed; grey to brown and intensity flared. They felt again the crumbling edge of a cliff face under their toes. Hermione reached up and pulled his face to hers. They'd shared dozens of kisses over the last two years, but nothing like this. This kiss was fire, ice, passion, hunger, fear, desperation and gentleness in an explosion of euphoria. _

_Draco yanked away from her before they were both totally overwhelmed and missed the train. He pushed her a little harder than necessary. _

"_Go!" _

_She didn't look back as she jogged quickly to the train. Ron was hanging out of one of the doors, scanning the near-empty platform for her. He saw he and waved frantically. _

"_What the bloody hell took you so long?" he grumbled as she jumped on past him. _

"_How is that any of your business, Ronald?" she snapped. He glared at her retreating back. _

"_I was just bloody asking" _

_She glared at him over her shoulder, stopping as she suddenly realised she had no idea where the other were. _

"_You haven't apologised to Crookshanks" she said stonily. Blood rushed to his ears, the precise reaction she was looking for. If Ron was mad, he wouldn't notice her swollen lips. Harry was clueless about that sort of thing, and posed no problem himself. _

_Ginny, however, was a different story all together..._


	6. Dirty little secret

"Granger"

She'd looked up sharply, surprised, and to his satisfaction, her cheeks coloured just a little before she slid a cool, emotionless mask into place. It had nothing on his, but she would learn.

"Malfoy. Can I help you?"

He surveyed the library surreptitiously. It was a Sunday afternoon and the weather was brilliant outside. Only Hermione-bloody-Granger would be cooped up at a desk with history and Ancient Runes assignments spread across in front of her on a day like this. He frowned. Didn't she have Divination? How was she doing Ancient Runes?

He shook it from his mind and perched himself on the edge of her desk, forcing her to look up from her position with her nose to a piece of scrawled on parchment.

"I don't know. _Maybe_ you can..." he trailed off, waiting for her to say something. She didn't. She returned to her reading and note-taking as though he hadn't said anything. With frustration rising in his chest, Malfoy leaned over and plucked the quill from her fingers, making her finally sit up and glare at him. Good. She should know that nobody ignores a Malfoy!

"_What _do you _want, _you arrogant _git_?" she ground out. Draco had to catch his breath; if he thought Hermione when she was melting into a white hot puddle under his kisses was as hot as she could get, he'd forgotten her when she was really, _really _mad. He smirked and leaned closer. She swallowed hard and he smirked wider as her pupils dilated. She didn't retreat in his advance, but she wanted too.

"Come with me" he murmured quietly. He was close enough to hear her teeth grit.

"No!" she snapped. He sat up and let himself slide effortlessly to his feet. He turned to make sure she was watching him and winked. Her jaw dropped; a reaction which she quickly tried to cover up.

"Come with me" he repeated. He walked away, down the aisle of books, and disappeared between two higglty-pigglety shelves. He _felt _her hesitate. Every fibre of his being was attuned to her; the soft little sounds she made as she deliberated, the tap of her shoes as she softly followed him, her curiosity, the rapid thudding of her heart and the way she swallowed hard. He turned sharply and pulled her close. She didn't react, didn't pull away, but she didn't melt into him in the way he wanted her too. He traced the line of her jaw, the intoxicating smell of her skin filling him like fire. She shoved him away, eyes blazing.

"You _bastard! _What the _bloody hell _do you think you're doing?" she swore. Rage bubbled in his veins, boiled by the fire her scent had ignited and he roughly grabbed her arms, twisted and shoved her against the shelf behind him. Now she was trapped; a shelf to her left, a shelf behind her and its corner wedged against her hip, and his lean body pressed against her. Their lips weren't touching, but as he stuck his face to hers threateningly, they were so close she could taste his breath on her lips. She shuddered and caught her breath. Victory flashed deep in the cold depths of his eyes.

"Let me go, _right now_ Malfoy" she breathed, trying to snap as her voice wavered. Draco shivered and tried to take a breath; she was _scared _of him!

"What are you afraid of, Hermione?" he whispered huskily, searching her eyes, scanning her face like he could rip her thoughts out of her head. She swallowed and watched as his eyes dropped hungrily to see the shiver of her throat. Then she glared at him, pushing his chest in a futile gesture of rebellion. The truth was that since the news came of Sirius Black's escape, she hadn't felt safer.

"Not of you! Now let me go!"

He gently pressed her back, still drilling into her eyes with his. One side of his lips jerked and she glared at him. Suddenly, he slammed his forearm against her throat, cutting off her breath sharply, and grabbed her wand hand, shoving it above her head. With her other hand she clawed his arm, but in a silky motion, he caught her other wrist and trapped it too.

"I could kill you just as easily as Black. It would be so easy to kill you, Granger...all my troubles would be over. I could concentrate for five bloody minutes without hearing your voice in my head! I could walk past you and your little posse and not feel like tearing them apart because they can be seen with you, touch you, hold you..."

He shook his head slowly, angrily, his jaw clenched. Then he dropped her hands and stepped back. She sucked in a breath and tore out her wand, pointing it at him. He didn't reach for his; he didn't even react. He just stood, and looked at her, drinking in her raging chocolate eyes and dark brown curls, bouncing on her shoulders. He tried to ignore the tightening in his pants.

"What are you talking about?"

He flicked a look at her from under his lashes and smirked.

"I thought that would be obvious"

Her fingers flexed warningly and he only grinned wider.

"I want you, Granger. I had something last year. And I want it back..."

She swallowed and hesitated with the wand. There was naked desire and blank uncertainty in her eyes. He probably could have restrained himself if she hadn't done what she did then; pulled her bottom lip into her mouth with her tongue and very lightly marked it with her sharp, white teeth.

He swore, lunged forward and swatted her wand away, grabbing her hips and slamming her to him. Lips, teeth, tongues, hips, curves, taste, sensation, skin, heat, passion, sweat, shirts, breaths-

A voice!

"Hello? Whose down there? Hello?"

Draco swore, his eyes flying open to take in the vision of Hermione Square-Prim-Proper-And-Responsible Granger, her blouse open, her bra red lace, her robes in utter disarray, her lips swollen and delicious and her eyes black with desire. He was standing in the V of her legs; her pressed against a shelf and perched precariously on the narrow edge of it.

He cursed himself; he had never lost control before. Never, ever, ever, not even his first time, had he lost control so badly that he had no memory of how exactly they'd ended up in their current position.

In return, she looked, partly down, at him; his robes were a puddle on the floor, his shirt was mostly undone with two or three buttons at the bottom that had popped in her haste to feel the sleek, chiselled muscle of him under her overheating fingertips. His hair was ruffled from its usual greased perfection and there were marks on his shoulders which, she now realised in horror, where from her own nails scraped across the taunt skin there.

"Oh. _Shite!_" she slid to the floor, eyes wide with shock and horror as it finally registered what she was doing and where she was. They took one look at each other as the footsteps drew closer and knew there was no way they would be able to get themselves to any semblance of order before the librarian arrived and caught them. Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her down the aisle, in the opposite direction to the footsteps. They sprinted, whirled left and right as the maze of books seemed to open into the main study area, and were soon utterly lost. Breathing hard they stopped running, and looked around. Hermione knew immediately where they were, and her heart stopped.

"Restricted section...oh my God, we're going to be in so much trouble! The house points! What am I going to-" she was panting out as Draco rudely interrupted; bursting into laughter. She hissed and clapped her hand over his mouth, clutching her blouse to her semi-nude chest. His eyes seemed to darken as he took the hand over his mouth and kissed the palm. Agonisingly slowly, he kissed his way across her hand and down her arm, pulling her closer with each caress. She was mesmerised, and powerless to stop him. It wasn't until his free arm snaked around her waist and his lips dropped to taste her graceful neck that she struggled.

"No, Draco, _no! _We can't..._do this! _We shouldn't, we, we _couldn't _and we _can't! _Not here, not now not anywhere not ever! It's impractical and irresponsible and th-there are _lines _and _rules _and-and _things_! That n-need to be considered-"

He put a finger on her mouth to stem the flow of incessant babbling. Then he followed his finger with a light, chaste peck.

"You talk too bloody much, you know that?"

He pressed as equally innocent kiss to her cheek.

"The way I see it, I am a Malfoy, and as such I always get what I want. Currently, I want you-"

This next caress was to her jaw; longer by a heartbeat, barely moist lips trailing along the sweet line of gentle bone.

"-And if it kills me, which it probably bloody will, I will have you. Impracticality, irresponsibility, rules and your imagined lines be damned!-"

Now the burning trail of his kiss was at her earlobe, lips nibbling with the scantiest hint of tender teeth. She found it hard to concentrate on his words when her being was focused on what he was doing with that particularly talented mouth of his.

"-Do you remember the passage that you dragged me into to interrogate me?"

"_Malfoy" _

_He's heard that name on those lips many times, the disgust that she's had to utter the word dripping contemptuously off her tongue. So why now did it have such effect, cause him to shiver and swing on his toes to face her. _

_She gathers the book she's been reading and stands, back straight, gaze steady at them. He's flanked, as always, by Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy says something that Draco doesn't hear. It makes Hermione's lips jerk in a cruel, silent snarl that is wrong on her face. There's murder in her eyes as they clash against the grey of his and hold him captivated. Her nose twitches as if she's smelt something offensive. _

"_McGonagall wants to see you" she says in her crisp, no nonsense tone. He shakes his head to clear it, remembering himself. _

"_Well I'd better go see the old hag, hadn't I? Wouldn't want her to cough up a furball kept waiting" Goyle and Crabbe chortled dumbly on cue, and Pansy gave that high, irritating giggle that always grated Draco's nerves. Hermione snorted softly, her lips still caught in a sneer of distaste. _

"_If anything is going to make her throw up Malfoy, it'll be your presence"_

"_If she can handle the stench of your blood, Granger, she can handle Draco's good looks" purred Pansy, draping herself over his arm and curling her long-nailed fingers through his hair, shooting a look of pure venom at Hermione, who rolled her eyes in reply. _

"_Put that on a leash, snake-face, and hurry up; I have to escort you" she said it like she'd been asked to nurse a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Neither Draco nor Pansy had a reply for her quick, sharp dig as she whirled on her heel and stalked away. Draco's eyes dropped down the curve of her hips and he swallowed, spitting out the first words that came to him; _

"_Right away, mudblood-" no reaction. He sighed and flicked his wrist lazily at his entourage _

"_- You go on, this will only take a minute" _

_They were heading down a quiet corridor towards McGonagall's office when suddenly, Hermione spun, grabbed his arm and yanked him into a wall, which gave and sucked them into the semi-darkness of a secret passage. He looked around, impressed, until Hermione slammed him in the wall, shoving him in the chest. _

"_What the hell was that stunt you pulled at the lake you two-faced little rodent?" she growled, trying to keep her irritated voice soft. With a rush, he remembered her taste, the feel of her under him, the smell of the earth and her hair. The flow was so strong he shuddered. _

"_Nothing" he snarled. She was furious; there were spots of colour high on her cheeks and all the blood had been forced from her fists. _

"_Nothing? You...you!" she spluttered uselessly, shaking with fury and confusion. He sneered, heart beating faster than he cared to admit. _

"_What do you want me to say, Granger? I was being harassed by the Weasel's brothers and you got in my way" _

_Her mouth dropped open in wordless hatred and her eyes were blazing in way he would come to enjoy as she slapped him, the crack resonating around the narrow little entrance. _

"_I got in your way! You twat you ran over the top of me!" her voice was high with vehemence. He smirked, ignoring his throbbing cheek, noting the pulse running hard in her neck and the way her brown eyes sparkled in the torchlight. He reached out and brushed the cool tips of his fingers across her pulse, lighting up as she shivered unintentionally and bit her lip again. _

"_You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Granger" he smirked. Her throat moved as she swallowed hard and then his hand stung as she slapped it away. _

"_I am not prone to bestiality you slimy little rat!" _

_He stepped close quickly and she stepped away, retreating back another step until her back crashed into the wall behind her. Draco planted his hands either side of her head and held his face a breath from hers, so close he could taste her warm breath. Her chest rose and fell in quick pants against his and with her jaw clenched and her eyes wide and glaring, she looked murderously edible. _

"_Kiss the Weasel alright don't you?" he whispered harshly, probingly. With a painful roar that shot up into his belly, she drove her knee into his groin and he dropped hard onto his knees. The floor beneath their feet was hard-trodden dirt. _

"_My God you're a real piece of work!" she snarled and turned out towards the covered exit. It was as he looked up and saw her back that it struck him like a lightning bolt that he couldn't let her go. Sucking in a breath, he pushed himself from his knees to his feet and grabbed the back of her robes, pulling her back. Then her heel caught on the edge of the flagstones outside the exit as he yanked her back in, and she fell back with a cry. On one knee, he caught her and pulled her against his chest, silencing her with one hand over her mouth as voices echoed outside. Soon they passed, but Draco stayed frozen, keeping his position like he was focused outside, and enjoyed the feeling of her curves caught against him and curled half in his lap, her fingers gripping the front of his robes to stop her slipping from the uncomfortable position. He heard her mumble from behind his hand and looked down at her. With his signature smirk, he lowered his head next to her ear. _

"_I could get used to you in this position" his words were husky. She suddenly exploded with movement and sent them both off balance into the dirt. _

"_Dammit, Granger, these robes cost more than your parents earn in a year!" he snapped, shaking off the dirt. She straightened her hair and glared. _

"_There's a hardly an exchange rate between Muggles and wizards, so you wouldn't know. Therefore, shut up, snake-face!" _

"_Is that really all you can come up with?" _

"_Is mudblood all you can come up with?" _

_He opened his mouth angrily, but nothing came out. She was right, really; her birth was about the only thing he could prod her for. He knew she was smart and he thought she was beautiful, but he wasn't about to tell her that. _

"_Well I could always get started on that face of yours" he snapped. She snorted delicately, something Draco didn't think was possible until that moment. _

"_Which we both know is codswallop" _

"_Oh really?" _

_Her face glinted with mischief as he glared at her, trying to control his racing pulse. _

"_Do you make a habit of keeping your wand in your trouser pocket when you're kissing Muggles, Draco?" she asked, the sarcasm thick and the cool factor icy. His jaw dropped at her knowing smirk, coupled with the blush he expected, but he could hardly take a jab at her for it; his own cheeks were burning. _

"_You know-" he said when he could finally speak again- "I always thought you were a bit of a prude" _

_She laughed softly, and looked away, her head cocked to listen for sounds outside. _

"_Oh for goodness sake, Malfoy. I prefer jeans and sweaters; that does not make me a prude, Malfoy. But you wouldn't know anything about not judging a book by its cover" _

_It was the strangest thing, an unexplainable urge to prove that she was wrong, that he did know, that made the next words tumble from his mouth. _

"_Crabbe listens to classical music. He's one of my best mates, known 'im since we were kids. His mum...his dad married into pure blood, but his mum's the one who got killed for not followin' the Dark Lord. Crabbe still has nightmares something...we're not meant to talk about it, you know...but I don't think you'd tell anyone..." his voice was soft. _

_Some of the fire was gone from her eyes this time as she looked at him appraisingly. They were softer; the flickering firelight from the torches further down the tunnel moulded amber flecks into the never ending darkness of them, and Draco found himself almost getting lost. _

"_Why did you kiss me?" she broke the silence as she caught herself on the edge of very high place, longing to leap into the depths of stormy flint eyes. He started and looked away, pushing his hands into the pockets of his robes. He saw her tense, and realised that she thought he was going for his wand. He put his hands by his side. _

"_I didn't want you to yell and bring those bloody twins over...-" he hesitated, about to say more, then his jaw clamped shut and he stared into the inky blackness beyond the torchlight. _

"_Then what happened?" _

_He looked at her; her with those large amber brown eyes and little smile, with the tangled, bushy curls and arching brows. _

"_You tasted like cherry" his voice rumbled, a silky, caramel sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and the rest of her body do very uncharacteristic things. For a long moment, they both stood and watched each other, reading the situation, trying to think, trying to confront a thousand problems and obstacles that were going to stand in their way. _

_She tried to think that he could get her killed; he was a bad guy, the next generation of Death Eater. And besides the obvious, she hated him! He was an obnoxious, arrogant, rude and cruel git! _

_He tried to think that she could get him killed; she was a Muggle-born supporter of the Boy Who Lived. And besides that, she was a know-all with a sharp temper and didn't give a damn about his family. _

_So why then was he covering the distance between them? Why did he growl like a child confiscated of its toy when she pulled away? Why did voice the challenge, knowing somehow explicitly that she wouldn't be able to resist?_

"_Go on, Granger; if you don't want me, prove it. Don't kiss me back" _

He pulled away when she didn't answer and couldn't suppress the grin of satisfaction at the slightly glazed look in her glowing brown eyes. She seemed to shake herself from a spell, now that the heat of his kisses was replaced by a cold blast of reality. She shrugged into her blouse as she answered, modestly turning her back on him. He had to smile at her chastity, her conveniently forgetting the sweltering passion of bare moments ago.

"It's hard to forget" she answered finally, softly.

He stepped behind her and pulled her back against him. She sighed and arched into him. He moaned helplessly. His hands dropped to cup her breasts before they skated down to hold her around her middle, locked to him. He bent his head to taste her neck as he spoke, and she lolled her head instinctively to allow him.

"You wanted to keep it a secret. A dirty...little...secret...just between you and me. Does that offer still stand?"

The electricity between them was practically humming. She could barely breathe she was so focused on where his hands were, on the heat behind her, on his smell, the taste left behind on her lips and the gentle, beautiful torture he was performing low on her neck as he spoke.

She took a shuddering breath and couldn't answer him. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, _bad_. _He _was bad. Bad news, bad guy. Suddenly, his voice was harsh and snarling in her ear, sending chills down her spine to ignite in her belly.

"_Say it!_"

"Yes..."

"Yes what?"

She tried to turn, but his arms held her fast. For a ridiculous moment they struggled, then Hermione went still, seemed to think for a long moment, and then leaned her head back so her breath caressed the pounding pulse in his neck.

"I'll be your dirty little secret" she murmured.

Of course she was Hermione Granger, so he really should have known that wouldn't be the end of it.


	7. Craving

Hermione Granger was walking alone down a dimly lit corridor when she was grabbed by the arm and yanked forcefully through a trick tapestry. She'd seen it once on the Marauder's Map, but never had reason to be inside the hidden alcove. Now she was being kidnapped inside it!

She struck out hard at her assailant, scrambling with one hand for her wand. Whoever it was, they were fast and strong. One graceful-fingered hand wrapped around her wrists and slammed them to the wall above her head, ramming her between their body and the stone behind them. the other hand plucked her wand from her grasp before she'd managed to get off more than a wordless Disarming spell. She heard them curse as they dropped her wand to the floor and locked her arms above her with both hands now.

Her eyes were still adjusting to the sudden darkness and the person, definitely male, was standing too close to see their face. Finally she found her voice;

"_Let _me _go _you _bloody arsehole!_"

A soft, sensual chuckle stopped her struggles dead.

"Well, well, well. The little lioness does have a mouth on her" he murmured into her ear. Angrily now, she thrashed and managed to push him off her a bit.

"_Malfoy _you _wanker! _What are you _doing?_"

Her now identified kidnapper chuckled again, looking down at her furious expression with amusement and...

She drew in a sharp breath. She wasn't nieve enough not to mistake the glint of lust in Draco Malfoy's eyes as he beheld her, trapped against the wall.

"I think you and I are overdue for a little discussion, Granger" he murmured quietly. Hermione swallowed hard and yanked on her wrists, hoping to take him off guard. It was no good; all she succeeded in doing was scraping her skin on the roughly hewn stone.

"_Get bent_" she gritted.

He laughed outright, the sound like a shot of fire right to her gut. It was hot and smooth and made her knees wobble. She locked them stubbornly and glared with all her might. For a long moment, he didn't say anything and she continued to fix him with a death stare. One side of his lips jerked.

"You're attracted to me"

The blunt, pointed statement took _her _off guard and she jerked in surprise.

"Go to _hell! _I _hate _your filthy, miserable, ferrety _guts_" she snarled, before sucking in a quick breath and controlling her raging temper. _Why _did boys this year have such an effect on her? First Ron, now bloody Malfoy. He seemed about to say something when she cut him off;

"There's obviously been a serious misunderstanding. I hate you, you hate me. It's a very simple concept but I can draw you a diagram if you'd really like" she ended snarkily.

"No misunderstanding, Granger. You're entirely right. We hate each other. Lions and snakes, the Potty club versus Diggory-"

"The good and the evil..." she listed in the same nonchalant tone of voice. He smirked and continued.

"Point is that, despite our inconsolable differences, _you _are attracted, _to me_"

She snorted derisively.

"In your dreams"

Quickly, before she could stop him, he'd bent his head to her neck and began to slowly drag his hot lips up the side of her neck. Fire coursed through her, igniting from every point his caress ventured and shooting down her spine. She gasped, shivering as his next words rumbled deliciously through her skin.

"You have _no _idea how right you are, Know-It-All"

For a heartbeat, she froze, his words echoing on and on in a melodic hum through her mind. Then she came back to her senses with a shock and bucked against him, trying to push him away.

"Get _off _me!"

He growled, shaken just a step back, and then grinned predatorily.

"You like it"

Hermione's lips twisted in a silent snarl and his eyes caught the light from the corridor outside, lighting a gleam in them that made her muscles tense and her skin ignite at the same time.

"What, no witty comeback? You haven't finally accept-"

"I wasn't going to _dignify _that _rubbish _with a _response_!" she growled, her brown eyes deadly as she struggled against him. Draco moistened his lips, eyes closed, apparently not listening to a word she was saying. A soft moan rumbled deep in his chest, freezing her.

"Salazar Almighty, if I were deaf you really would be the most beautiful damn thing to every walk these halls" he told her softly.

"Flattery will get you _nowhere_"

He opened his eyes.

"Au contraire, mademoiselle. Flattery will get you _everywhere_"

This time she snarled wordlessly.

"When I get my wand back..." she threatened, trying to break his hold again. Draco leaned up and trailed kissed down the inside of her arm, the caress warm and seductive against the sensitive skin that had a citrus tang to it.

"When you get your wand back, Granger, I'll be long gone. I'm just...-" his eyes dipped to take in her heaving chest, the strawberry blemishes he'd left on her neck and her utterly livid face, two red spots high on her cheeks.

"-Satisfying a craving" he ended softly.

"_What?_"

He chortled contemptuously and shook his head in a oh-you-silly-innocent-you sort of way.

"Really, Granger, as if you haven't felt it. Salazar only knows I have"

"I don't know what you're talking about" her words escaped breathlessly and desperately from her mouth. He wasn't smiling now; his face was serious and its flawless contours took her breath away.

"The thrill. That you get when I come too close. That pounding in your blood. As though your skin's too tight for you. The way you notice when I walk in. That _allure _of danger. Forbidden fruit, love...just _begging _to be plucked"

"I'll kill you!" the last resort, the final desperate stand against the blazing fire in her gut. The way his smell of expensive cologne invaded her mind, these three crude words moulded hastily into a weapon, a useless barricade, all she could scrounge in the defence attempt. He was drawing closer, enjoying every delicious moment that brought him closer to his goal; her pink, soft lips.

"By the Founders I hope so" he gasped hoarsely and slammed her lips to his.


	8. Connected for a moment

Blaise Zabini was, really, anything but subtle. He was quiet and intense, but when in the company of one lifetime friend Draco Malfoy, anything but subtle.

So when he went hunting for the aforementioned Pureblood one afternoon part way through their fifth year, and found him sitting in an arch of one of the Hogwarts walkways, head bowed, hands clasped loosely between his knees, a defeated man, he didn't mince his words. He sat heavily beside Draco and punched his shoulder.

"Alright, so what's your problem, Malfoy?"

Nothing. No reply. The blue-eyed blonde looked up over his shoulder and shot Blaise a death look before returning to contemplating his feet.

"Come on, Malfoy. You're not eating properly, you're sleep-walking through our classes, you're disappearing for no reason...Draco, are you listening?"

"I'm really not" Draco muttered in reply, standing up and walking to the other side, folding his arms and leaning on the opposite arch. His brow was knitted in a soulful frown, his eyes catching the last of the days orange rays. Suddenly Blaise's jaw dropped.

"I'll be damned...Draco Malfoy has woman troubles!"

Draco growled wordlessly deep in his throat and swung to face Blaise.

"Shut your mouth, Zabini"

The dark boy smirked.

"Now, now Malfoy. Retract your claws, kitty...-" he waited until Draco had snorted impatiently and gone back to his angsty vigil at the archway before speaking again- "So who is she?"

For a long moment, Draco didn't answer and Blaise didn't force the issue just yet. He knew that set of the Malfoy heir's jaw; he would cave sooner or later and just tell him what the problem was.

"Do you ever wonder if we're going to Hell?"

Blaise jerked; not the answer he was expecting! He sat up a little straighter, staring at Draco sceptically.

"What the fuck?"

Draco took a deep, slow breath through his nose and looked down.

"People are always going on about Salazar's curse. Maybe...nobody knows who his son really was. Not really. Claim we do. But nobody knows and...maybe I'm just bloody cursed"

Blaise stood slowly, turning his friend's soft, serious words over in his mind.

"What would make you think that?" he asked, approaching Draco's side of the walkway. Draco swallowed hard and looked up, his gaze solid and penetrating, reading every detail of Blaise's soul with all the keen skill of a sharp blade. Pale eyes trapped the dark, as they always had, and behind the ice cold mask of glacial blue, there was something stirring.

"I finally meet a girl. Who's sexy and smart and doesn't just want my name...who really means it when she laughs and...-" his voice caught and he had to look away, graceful hands gripping the stone window sill hard enough to squeeze the blood from them. Blaise waited, his heart in his mouth at the level of restrained emotion flowing like a cloak from the other's boys trembling shoulders-

"-...see's, something good...in me...and she's all wrong"

"Doesn't sound wrong to me mate" said Blaise, and meant it. Any girl who could get this far under Draco Malfoy's ice was a helluva lady in his book. Draco turned, a blaze ignited in his eyes that Blaise Zabini had never, in all the years he had known Draco, seen.

"She's a Gryffindor. She's Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army. She's the greater good and a better world and...perfect. Just bloody perfect"

"He's a Slytherin. He's Death Eaters and the Inquisitorial Squad. He's Pureblood and exclusivity and the family name first and...perfect. Just bloody perfect"

At that moment, Ginerva Weasley and Blaise Zabini looked at their best friends; one Hermione Jean Granger and one Draco Malfoy, in exactly the same way. They shared a look with each of these star-crossed lovers that united the four of them in a way they would never know. For a moment, although they were unaware of it, Blaise and Ginny were connected by a common bond of utter terror, joy, rage and excitement.


	9. Where secrets lay in serpents embrace

_Where secrets are kept in the serpents embrace.  
>Shine there my star;<br>Your dragon awaits._

The Chamber looked, for most past, just as Harry had described to her. She had walked and waded through varying depths of water to stand here between the honour guard of broken serpent's torsos, her arms folded, and her dark brown eyes steady as they gazed with bored disinterest around the cavern, the decaying corpse of the Basilisk laying coiled on the reflective floor. She didn't hear his footsteps until she heard his voice and swung around to face him.

Seeing him there, the black stone reflected in his pale eyes, his head slightly cocked with that ever-confident smirk cutting across the sharp, icy planes of his face, was to gaze upon a predator in their element.

"Draco" she breathed before she could stop herself.

His smirk widened and he took another step closer.

"Hermione" he said in reply, his voice pure, liquefied seduction intravenously injected into her heart. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

"I never had you pinned for a poet, Malfoy…what do you want?"

"Not very friendly, Granger. Is that anyway to greet…an old friend?"

She opened her eyes, a dangerous move. The sleek confidence of the sensuality that oozed from his flawless skin was disconcerting to say the least.

"You stopped being my friend the day you attacked Harry on the Hogwarts Express"

He flinched, as if she'd physically hit him with her cold accusation, and her throat leaped at the pain that glanced across his face, like a stone on the surface of the water.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Gr-"

"The hell I don't. You should have _told me _Malfoy. You should have told _someone. _Dumbledore wouldn't have been dead"

"No but my parents would have. _I _would have! Dammit, Granger, my mother knew about you! She would have sold you out in a heartbeat if she thought it would save me…I don't regret what I did"

Her jaw dropped and his fists clenched by his sides. For a long moment she just stared at him and finally looked away with a heavy sigh.

"I'm only going to ask you once more, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"Nothing. I have something to give you"

She turned her head, eyes hard with suspicious and anger. From his right forefinger, he slid the House of Malfoy signet ring with Hermione's wary eyes on him. For a long moment, he clenched his fist around it with a heavy frown on his face.

"What I did here this year….has given me…certain prestige. I know you'll be leaving with Potter…I know…if I ever see you alive again, it'll be a bloody miracle on both our parts. I want- I _need- _you to take this. And wear it. And in the name of Salazar Almighty don't try to hide it. Because…it will protect you. No matter how weak my parents become in the eyes of the Dark Lord I…I will not allow harm to come to you"

"You needn't fret about my safety, Malfoy. I am perfectly capable"

"Bloody hell, Granger, I _know _what you are _ruddy _capable of! I have the scars to prove it! This is me _trying…_this is me doing my best with what I have"

His voice rang off the stone, upsetting some stones which clattered into the water. He dropped his voice again, holding her captive with his eyes. Her breath came short and sharp.

"You want to do something for me Draco? It's not too late"

He gave the world-weary sigh of a parent whose child did not understand a simple concept. _The fire is hot; don't touch it. Don't touch it. Don't touch it…_

"This isn't about me, Granger. There are people under my family's protection and if I were to…the betrayal, _my _betrayal would fall to whoever the Dark Lord could get to. My mother, the Greengrass sisters, Lucius…Bellatrix, though that's not really such a terrible shame…"

Hermione gave a short, dry chuckle and let her head drop in contemplation.

"Does the Order know where your loyalties truly lie?"

He shook his head negative and she nodded thoughtfully. He lost count of the heartbeats they didn't speak for, when the only sound was the steady drip of water, stealing the moment to commit her features to his memory. The vision of her face he used to seal every memory he held dear, locked safely in an iron box of beauty in the deepest, most secret reaches of his mind; safe from unwanted intruders.

Their first kiss. Her shining eyes. The night they danced in the garden's of the Yule Ball, where nobody could see and nobody suspected. The days they hid on the edges of the Forbidden Forest, cloaked in sunlight and bathing in kisses. Their laughter, smothered in skin and clothes and behind hands as they tried to gather their clothes where the articles were strewn across the back aisle of the Restricted Section. Waking up in the soft heat of morning, curled so closely to her that he lost all understanding of where he ended and she began. Seeing the strawberry blemish that she had missed that morning and couldn't hide, displayed on the sweet curve of her neck, with a jolt of pride and possessiveness. Dark corners and secret tears; they were moonlighting and rule breaking and wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

"I'm going to tell them. So, if the opportunity arises…"

"It won't" he assured her sadly and she nodded curtly again.

Finally with a long-suffering, derisive snort, she held out her hand.

"On one condition…"

He cocked an eyebrow questioningly as she made a fist, denying him access to the welcoming plateau of her palm.

"…stay safe. Stay alive"

With a single nod, he placed the ring on the centre of her palm and closed her fingers around the cool steel, sealing it with a kiss.

"Goodbye my love" he whispered.

She kept her eyes closed until she was sure he was long gone. The memory of his back one was she could do without; she had plenty of images just like it in her mind. Instead now she had the vision of his bending the graceful arch of his spine over her hand, like Prince Charming bestowing a kiss on his fair princess, as the last image she would have of him.

Now she could console herself with the sound of his voice, his accent embracing the sounds and gently depositing them on her heart.

"I love you" she whispered to the empty room before she opened her eyes, imagining for a moment the ghost of his smile, implanted on the backs of her eyelids.


	10. The Prodigal's Return

She left the apartment in the crackling cold of 7am, in the standard work gear she wore nearly every day; skirt, blouse, pumps and a jacket. She carried a tea in a thermos mug in one hand and expertly juggled her keys and satchel and a novel with her business card marking her page in the other.

He stood across the street with his long graceful fingers nursing a hand rolled cigarette. His other hand was pushed deep into the pocket of his jeans. The signature blonde flash of his hair was bent, studying the ground. When he heard the door slam his eyes jerked up and he took in the figure turning to lock her door. A flash of pain and longing electrified his eyes. Then he seemed to shake it off, a dark mask closing his features to emotion, tossed his smoke on the ground, scrubbed it out with the toe of his old, worn dragon hide boot. He straightened.

"Hermione" he called.

She froze dead and turned her upper body towards him. he wondered briefly if somehow she'd managed to keep her wand when Harry ordered her to go into hiding and if so, whether or not he was about to die in a flash of green light. He swallowed and moistened his lips as she looked quickly around and crossed the road. Without a word, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a blind alley between the boundary wall of a primary school and a corner store.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed, looking at him intensely. He looked back, stoic.

"You already know that Hermione" he said solemnly. Hermione shifted the weight of her bag, heavy with books.

"You should not be here" she muttered, eyes on her mug. He reached out and took her hand. She flinched; the motion was like a knife to his gut but he didn't let go of her.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" he asked quietly.

Suddenly, she returned his grip and looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with tears. He caught his breath; why was grief so becoming to her? It was wrong.

"I can't believe it-" she whispered- "I'm sorry, I-I just can't"

"Hermione-"

"Draco" her voice caught as his name escaped her lips for the first time in a long time. He gripped her upper arms tightly.

"We have to go back, Hermione. Whether it's true or not. Because if it is, we may as well stand and die with our friends and if it's not...well, if it's not we've been in hiding too damn long as it is"

She dropped her cup and satchel and threw her arms around his neck. The abrupt display threw Draco backwards into the brick wall and he held her tightly. Her scent, her glorious scent and warmth and softness and _Hermione-ness _drowned him, blocked everything out, and he no longer gave a damn if they were seen or caught or killed. He would die the happiest man on earth if he could die like this.

"Oh Draco-"_Hhhakjfkjabfkjas_she coughed, starting to sob. He held her as he too began to cry into the familiar, sweet-tasting crook of her neck. These last few weeks had been hellish and too damn long. Neither of them had anyone to talk to who would understand. They'd been trapped in the idealistic shields they'd created for themselves, cut off, scared and alone. Now they were together. Still cut off, still frightened, still unsure. But now they were together. And that made everything a little more okay again.


	11. Two souls in single thought

Prequel 

The man stood in his dress robes and tapped his glass for silence. Slowly, quiet fell over the congregation and all eyes turned to him, with his messy black hair and his sharp green eyes. He watched them all for a moment from his position at the head table, the bridal party seated around him, and then took a deep breath. He began to speak, slowly, thoughtfully.

"Things never quite work out the way we plan. Their first kiss was in fact, a maneuver he made first to keep her quiet, because his hands were otherwise occupied keeping her from scratching his eyes out as he hid from the retribution of a pair of furious Weasley twins. Somewhere along the line, it turned into something more, something that neither of them could quite understand"

"As time progressed, so did this...force of nature. A meeting of fire and ice was never going to go smoothly, and a serpent and a lioness are ultimately untameable creatures. Never mind there was a war being fought at the same time-"

This drew black chuckles from the crowd; the memories of the War were still raw.

"As he struggled with a lifetime of demands and expectations, she too wondered. Is this real? Is this worth it? Neither of them were fools, are fools; they knew the consequences that may await their actions. So it was behind locked doors and in shadows that they tried to understand this strange twist of fate"

"Imagine; the fresh, bright emotions of new love. The stomach flips, the butterflies. Remember the first time you held their hand; that feeling of walking on top of the world. Imagine having to imagine it. Only being able to dream about walking down the hall, just holding their hand. Such pressure could have destroyed a lesser pair; but not this one"

"They were not, however, as clever as they thought they were. My first encounter with them was to walk past the Quidditch stands and see a very familiar brown bush entangled with a very familiar silver grease ball-"

This time, everyone laughed; even the bride and groom, reluctantly, and not without a glare apiece towards the best man. He raised his glass to them with a smile and continued.

"Of course, now that I look back and compare notes with those others who are closest to them, I realise the signs had been there for months. There was even one incident that the groom describes as the moment he broke; kissing her neck in broad daylight, in full view of not only his fellow serpents, but the entire pride of lions"

There was murmuring and chuckling at this metaphor and the best man paused a moment before speaking again, seemingly gathering his thoughts.

The groom did not laugh; he looked at his bride, for a moment the same nakedness that had haunted her alive in his storm-grey orbs. It had indeed been his breaking moment, when the mould he had long since set himself inside was shattered by the sheer intensity of his need for her. He could no longer stand not being near her, could no longer stand her not knowing that he was in his totality, with all his flaws, entirely her property.

"Then it could no longer be hidden, secreted behind locks and in the dark. At a moment where his love needed him, he did not balk and he did not hesitate. In his usual modest manner, he launched himself off the edge of an eleven foot drop to her defence one day. In a single moment, a single phrase, everything changed"

"_She's mine, and I will kill anyone who looks twice at her" _

He didn't say it out loud, but the sudden intensity on his face as he recalled his own words said everything that needed to be said. It spoke the things that the best man couldn't find the words for.

"Quite an entrance let me assure you, as we've come to expect-"Again, he hailed the couple with his champagne glass. The bride looked at her new husband as he smirked. The best man returned his gaze to the audience, bracing himself for the next part of his speech.

"Then...war was upon us. Choices were made. Some terrible, and some great..."

The groom looked down, residual pain skating across his features. The bride took his hand and smiled encouragingly. The gesture alone gave him strength to look up and listen.

"Sides were chosen; and then the line was crossed. Apart from me, there is nobody on Heaven or Earth that Voldemort would have liked to see dead more than him..."

The words were blunt, fatally honest. Somebody gasped, an old instinct that refused to die. The groom smirked proudly at the best man for his gall, and then heat rose in his fine pale cheeks at the praise that came next.

"Yet still he came, and still he fought. It is with great pride that I call him my cousin and my mate...-" green eyes met storm-blue-

"Then, the blood-letting was over. The war was finished. Standing in the middle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, I wondered where we would all in a year. Whether it were even possible to mend the rifts and heal the wounds. It is. Here before you now, they really do stand as a symbol of that mending and that healing...not that it's stopped me from putting two knuts on him not surviving the honeymoon"

The roars of laughter echoed around the hall, rebounding merriment off the stone and taking away the heavy blanket of mood that had crept in. On one of the front tables, a red haired man banged the table and whooped in agreement. The best man, still grinning, waved his glass for silence.

"Anyway. It's been a hell of a ride, it really has. For all involved I might say. From the very beginning, to this brand new beginning, we've been laughing, and crying, and cursing for some large part, our through the trials and tribulations of this thing we call life..."

The speaker seemed to reflect on those words, his green eyes growing far away for a moment. Then he glanced at the bridal table, where his own beauty watched him, her head slightly tilted, a smile playing on the lips he loved. He looked back to the crowd and smiled softly, memory making his eyes glitter.

"The first words she ever said to me were something along the lines of 'Have you seen a toad?'...now I might reply that you married one"

Again there was much amusement at this dig, and the groom just shook his head and said something matter-of-factly to his blushing bride, who seemed to agree wholeheartedly through her laughter.

"The first words he ever said to me while we stood together in Madam Malkins, I seem to have forgotten, but they would have highly superior and I walked away with the rather staying impression of 'what-a-bloody-git'..."

The groom shrugged to that, agreeing with his signature smirk. The best man smiled and paused for a moment.

"But the words I will always remember from him were uttered, unsurprisingly, a few seconds after he got snotted in the face by the ever-tactful Ronald Weasley-" The red-haired man grinned and owned it proudly while the groom mockingly rubbed in his jaw as though reminiscing. The speaker's face was intensely serious as he said his next words;

"Whatever it takes, Potter. I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe..."

"Of course, I replied and said he had bloody better, because I have no idea what I'd do without her-" There was a heartbeat of serious reflection, and then the speaker, face still deadpan, addressed the audience "-Seriously, I wouldn't have passed school-"

The bride nodded overenthusiastically amid the laughter and pointed at Ron, who held a hand to his chest in mock hurt, the expression on his face totally innocent. The speaker waited patiently until his two best friends had stopped goofing off before beginning to speak for the last time.

"So; now the papers are signed and she's got him right where she wants him, I suppose all that's really left to say is that...well, opposites attract. Sometimes they attract and then you get this wonderful fireworks show which, if you can dodge the crossfire, makes great fun to watch"

He raised his glass.

"To the man who was once Draco Malfoy, Class-A git, and now Drake Black, my suave and ever-so sophisticated git of a cousin, who somehow managed to land none other than the brightest witch of our age; the beautiful,_ lethal_ Hermione Gra..."

Harry trailed off and looked back at his best friend, who had tears on her cheeks, marring the make-up that Ginny had slaved over. He smiled sadly and apologetically and saw him squeeze her hand. Holding her eyes, he amended his sentence softly;

"...Black...to Drake and Hermione!"

It was as glasses were held high and the names uttered in a proud, smiling, sometimes tearful salute, that the doors to the hall were thrown open. Those closest to the doors screamed. Chairs clattered, wands were drawn, children grabbed and pushed behind protective bodies. The black robes and the skull masks were images of nightmares and waking horrors, come back from the far off thoughts, those memories pushed and locked away, to explode on this joyful occasion. Drake threw himself to his feet wand in hand, as those non-combatants were ushered against the walls or under tables, and the threat of violence boomed like thunder in the air. The Death Eater who stood, tall, proud in the lead of the triangle of equally sinister hooded figures, was immediately recognised.

"Why don't you take off that mask so I can see your face...Lucius!" Drake shouted, fury exploding in his grey eyes as Hermione clutched his arm, the fingers of her other hand white on her wand. Lucius paused and then tore his mask from his face, tossing it carelessly on the ground.

"It seems the post misplaced my invitation, my son" he sneered, stepping closer. The hated skull mask crunched under his step, but he paid it no heed. Drake's eyes narrowed.

"There wasn't one to be misplaced. Take your Lord's minions and be gone!"

It was war of reflections; the same essence of a raging storm clashed as two pairs of steel grey -orbs smashed together and held. The room held its breath. A harsh, cold smile played on Lucius' face.

"Now that is just rude, Draco. I raised you better than that"

"I was lucky enough to meet someone to set me right after your raising" he snarled in reply, holding Hermione's hand tightly. Lucius sneered and raised his wand. At the signal, the rest of the Death Eaters did too. They should have been faster; they were utterly surrounded by survivors, old young warriors. It was a massacre.

Harry wiped sweat from his brow and yelled to Neville and George to make sure everyone got out and away, and then ran with Ron and Luna at his side to check the slumped bodies of the Death Eaters. Three of the nine were still alive and were bound with Body Bind spells. Every wand they picked up was immediately and without discussion snapped in two, regardless of how the Ministry might react. Harry paused before Lucius' body, snapping the man's borrowed or stolen wand beneath his heel before readying his own wand and rolling the man onto his back. Dead eyes stared unseeingly back at him and Harry couldn't help the black tide of relief. He stood up just in time to catch a keening wail from the bridal table.

He whirled. Ginny was standing, the front of her stunning silver bridesmaid's dress coated in treacly crimson. She met his eyes, and he couldn't read the emotions there. Hatred of the transportation be damned, he Apparated to her side and looked down. He swore and fell to his knees, useless.

Drake Black was slumped against the wall, alive for now, breathing hard, his fingers and Hermione's pressed to his collarbone. Brilliant blood pounded steadily from between their linked fingers, his robes and skin blackened by the curse that had struck him. A foul stink smoked around it.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God-"Hermione sobbed under her breath as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"What hit him?" asked Harry, finally breaking the silence. He tore his robes and moved their fingers to press a pad of fabric to the terrible wound. Hermione's tear-ridden features rose to look him in the face.

"I didn't recognise the spell, but it was something Dark" she forced the words out. Suddenly, Drake seemed to come back into consciousness and tightened his grip over her fingers, pressing to his wound again.

"I'm alright. Just gunna make it a bit hard to carry you across the threshold love" he gasped. Harry had a sudden flashback to a boy who'd acted like a graze from a Hippogriff was a terminal injury. He knew better than to ask if Hermione had tried healing spells; she wouldn't be this despairing if she hadn't.

"We need to get him to Saint Mungo's" a voice said behind them. Harry looked up and nodded at Kingsley before looking into the half-closed grey eyes of a man he'd hated in their childhood, mistrusted to no ends, respected and slowly come to love like a brother.

"Alright. Can you move, Drake?"

His eyes flew open and he nodded quickly, gritting his teeth. With Hermione on one side and Harry on the other, they hauled him to his feet.

"Side-Along Apparation is too dangerous with him like this-"

"The car's waiting outside" someone interrupted. It was Ron, robes askew and panting, gesturing out the front of the hall with a thumb. Harry gave Drake's good arm to Kingsley so he could hug and kiss Ginny, who looked moments from either hexing someone or bursting into tears.

"I'm going with 'Mione" she said firmly. He hesitated, but really knew better than to argue with her when she had that particularly Ginny-ish glint in her eyes.

"Alright, be careful, for Merlin's sake"

She kissed him again and pulled away. Without a word she hurried after the others, passing Ron with a shared look. Harry rubbed his tingling lips and turned to Ron with a question in his eyes.

"Everyone's out okay. Most of them are going back to Mum and Dad's. Some of them are heading for the Ministry for answers, of course..." Ron reported. Harry swore and ran a hand through his hair angrily.

"What do they expect to find there? The minister's here, the Head Aurer's here and Head of the DMLE are both _here_-" he gestured at himself and then Ron. His best friend just shrugged. Harry heaved a heavy sigh and looked at the floor with his hands on his hips.

"Well...this is a long way from what I wanted for them today" he sighed heavily, thinking how beautiful and excited Hermione had looked that morning, how dumbstruck Drake was at seeing her step into the hall. Ron clapped him on the shoulder understandingly.

"I've gotta go find Luna" he said and disappeared out the doors after his girlfriend. Harry was still nodding absently after the doors swung shut behind him. There were six black robed bodies still laying slumped like abandoned toys in the chaos of chairs and upturned tables. He looked at their faces; they were all runaway defectors and outlaws, still missing after the Battle of Hogwarts. His gaze lingered on Lucius Malfoy. He wondered who had dealt the fatal blow; had it been Drake, as he had sworn to do after learning his mother had been killed by this man? Or...Hermione?

God only knew how far she would really go to protect those she loved most.

Harry sighed again, alone for now in the midst of the ruined evening.


	12. Dance in the dark

_Dance in the dark _

_Some girls won't dance to the beat of the track  
>She won't walk away<br>But she won't look back  
><em>

_Baby loves to dance in the dark  
>'Cuz when he's lookin'<br>She falls apart  
>Baby loves to danc<em>_e in the dark  
>(Tellem', girls)<br>_

_Darkness is worn like a second skin. Darkness shadows faces, hides tears, masks blood. It is feared as an enemy and respected as an ally. It is an equaliser; it hides one from their foe, but it also hides one's foe. When lights are dimmed, from the shadows a new world awakes. _

_In this world, this sharp, black world, the lines drawn between two people are different. The rules are changed or deleted altogether. Where there was once definition, there are shades of grey, blurred boundaries between light and dark. __This is why it takes a particular brand of person to survive here; for in darkness, everything and nothing is hidden. _

_A man once said that 'Without law, there is no freedom' and yet in darkness, this rule in undone. There are no rules where the two of them sought to hide, and yet here they found freedom. The borders that had been built like the Berlin Wall between them were washed away, faded to a hair-line fracture that is noted but ignored._

_"Why are we doing this? Why are you even here?" _

_She yanked away from him, her soft little pants fluttering the lock of hair which had fallen from the loose braid trailing against her neck. Her hands were pressed against his shuddering chest, holding him at bay as she craved the contact, that flaming connection between them. He caught her hands and held them; she had that look in her eyes again, like she was either going to run for her life or lash out at him. _

_"I don't know, Hermione. I don't bloody know" _

_Passion is the ultimate paradox. It's the only sphere were possession of somebody can be ecstasy or agony. Unlike darkness, there are no fine lines; passion is love and hate and neither. _

_He stood in the doorframe, his heart pounding as if trapped in a vice, high in his constricted throat. In the centre of the room with her eyes drifting between open and closed, her feet shifted and her curls swirled to the gentle, oblivious twist of her body. With that dreamy half-smile, the strains of song wrapped around her like the half-remembered ghost of a perfume and her hands raised a little, a salute to the music, and tumbled back to her softly swaying hips as, twirling in slow motion, her feet carried her in a miniature pirouette. Their eyes met and her body froze, the deep brown orbs of her eyes bulged. A ferocious explosion ignited her cheeks, the flush spreading down her neck and across the cream of her cleavage, heaving in the loose expanse of one of his school shirts. _

_"I-you-oh-" with a mortified squeak, she covered her burning cheeks, eyes dropping to the floor, as if to lay the blame firmly on the Devil's doorstep, and stabbed her plump bottom lip with her sharp, pearly teeth. Meanwhile, he finally found his voice again. _

_"Please-" __he stopped and cleared his throat. His voice sounded hoarse and unused. She raised her eyes, still completely humiliated, and watched him from under her lashes- "Don't stop-" he whispered, a penitent man for the first time in his life- "Please don't stop" _

_Hermione blinked slowly, surprised and unsure of his actions, so unlike him, so alien to her. When he took a gentle step towards her, she stepped back and he stopped dead, as though they were playing a game. _

_"Hermione-" he murmured quietly, the modulated seduction back in his voice- _

_"Dance for me?" _

_She laughed nervously, trying to shake it off. _

_"You're beautiful" he told her, trying to convince her. She just shook her head. _

_A man could tell a woman she was ugly once and she would believe him entirely, but he spent his entire lifetime telling her she was beautiful and she'd question him at every turn. Draco sighed, looking at her as she sought to look anywhere but at him, and had a sudden idea. _

_Just let her dance in the dark._

_Because when you're looking she falls apart._

_Hermione started when the lights when out, leaving the room pitch black for a moment before her eyes adjusted. Her hands were already on her wand, and Harry's voice intermingled with Moody's, the words a shield of confidence around her. _

_Constant vigilance! Just react, Hermione, you can do this! _

_"Draco!" she called, lighting the end of her wand._

_"Nox" somebody whispered close to her ear, his sweet breath upsetting a wayward curl from the precarious restraint of her ear. Her wand light went out and she turned to glare at the lean tower of moonlight bathed in wicked intentions standing before her. _

_"What are you playing at Malfoy?" she snapped a moment before he plucked her wand from her hand, which she'd stuck on her hip. A part of her brain, detached from the rest of her, scowled her for letting him take it and flashed images of the Imperius Curse, but she ignored it. There was no way that gleam in Draco's crystal blue eyes could be faked or manipulated. That shine was all him. _

_His arms were around her and his lips were just to the left of hers, whispering against her skin, and that was, at that moment, all that mattered. _

_"Dance in the dark with me" _

_The music got louder at his murmur and she whirled gently in his loving arms. _

_"I thought I already was" she joked quietly, as though sharing a private joke. _

_His smile flashed in the darkness. _

_And they danced. _


	13. Beware the grey eyes

They should have told her sooner. Before she sat on the shower floor in her clothes with her knees pulled to her chest, make-up running, fully clothed beneath the pounding cold spray. They should have told her before she was in so deep there was no way out. No way except down; to descend into the abyss of helpless heartache.

_Beware of boys with eyes of grey they'll kiss you once and turn you away._

She should have opened her eyes before she fell. Instead she tumbled like Alice down the rabbit hole into the arms and eyes of the enemy. The thought stabbed her heart; he was the enemy. She'd always known it, really. It was a fact, a cold, hard fact, that unlike thousands stored away in her mind from books and lessons, she ignored. Pointedly. And this is where it had led her to; a heavy sickness in her chest and bile burning her throat like the hot tears contrasting the cold water. She couldn't close her eyes; every time she did she saw the stark black marring of his perfect pale skin. The cross that he swore he would never bear.

"_He wants to take the school. He wants to use me to do it. Make me a Death Eater..." _

"_No, Draco! You can't!" _

"_Bloody hell, Brown Eyes, I know that! I _know _that! It doesn't make it any bloody easier does it?" _

He'd told her that he'd die for her. He told her to live for him, because he had to die. She knew he wasn't going to come back the minute he'd kissed her; pressed desperate lips to hers in a gesture that took her breath away. Ripped it from her lungs.

"_Mum's still with them. I have to make sure she's okay" _

The words he'd whispered in explanation. They'd cut her like knives, even though she knew she would do the same, even more. Narcissa had stood by him, protected him. He'd cursed her for being smothering, but she was the only person in his life who had ever loved him unconditionally, because he was her son and she would die for him. The love was totally simple and totally unreserved.

Before Hermione, the look in her eyes was the only thing he could connect with the alien word 'love'. Before Hermione, he'd been a lot of things he wasn't anymore.

He felt like he was still a coward. Watching him race away, back to Voldemort, it struck her like a thunderclap that he wasn't. He had been; third year, second year, he'd been a coward. First year he'd been too arrogant to be a coward. Now...he was anything but, and it scared the hell out of her. She loved that she could change him, but she hated what she'd made him; she'd turned him into another damn crusader. Another, blonder, Harry-bloody-Potter.

"Hermione? 'Mione, please, open the door"

Boneless, she lolled her head to stare blankly at the wooden door, listening without hearing as Harry tried to convince her to open the door. Moments later, his footsteps receded and she turned her face back to the shower wall, concentrating on the grout between the tiles. Suddenly, there were more footsteps and this time Ron's voice tried to convince her it was time to exit the bathroom she'd barricaded herself inside. But she couldn't. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

Because Draco was alive.

_They could hear her screaming. Ron was as wound up as a battery spring about it, shouting her name and hitting the walls. Luna reached and put her hand on his arm; Harry raised an eyebrow as the contact soothed him. Then he focused on the door. They didn't have their wands. They didn't have a way out. And Hermione was above them, screaming for her life. _

_Footsteps; outside, descending the stairs. Harry's fingers flexed reflexively even though there was no wand to wrap them around. To his intense surprise, a pair of black dress shoes appeared, then a pair of black dress trousers and a black button dinner shirt, the cuffs undone and sleeves rolled messily to the elbow, the buttons undone to the third or forth from the top. The ensemble encased lean, wiry muscle under aristocratic white skin and storm grey eyes with silver blonde hair, slicked back away from the sharp, tired face. _

"_What the hell are you doing here you greasy-" _

_Draco Malfoy opened the door of their jail cell and cut across him. _

"_As much as I would love to trade insults with you, Weasley, there are more important things to attend to-" _

_Suddenly there was a pop. _

"_Dobby!" Harry cried. _

"_Bout bloody time you showed up, elf" said Draco coldly. Dobby glared with his huge brown eyes but said nothing else as Draco threw them their wands. Ron's hit the floor and clattered because he was too busy snarling wordlessly at Draco, hands in fists by his side. For a split second, Draco was looking at the wand on the floor, and Harry seized the opportunity. He rushed him and shouldered him into the wall, pressing his wand against the Slytherin's eye, his forearm tight across his throat. _

"_If you're trying to play us-"_

_Malfoy was stronger than he looked. He shoved Harry away, breaking his hold on him and swiftly pointed his wand at Ron, halting his sudden charge. Now Malfoy was staring down Harry's wand, Ron was staring down Malfoy's and had his own by his side, fingers tight around it. _

"_You asked me once if I meant what I said to Blaise, Potter. Consider this your answer. Now let me get up first-" he glanced at Luna and Olivander- "Have you got somewhere to send them with Dobby?" _

_Ron wrinkled his nose. _

_He dropped his wand point and turned his back on Ron. With an exchange of glances, Harry, Ron, Luna, the wand maker and the goblin followed him up. At the top of the stairs they were greeted with a dark, stone chamber. Straddling Hermione in the middle of the big marble floor, Bellatrix whirled to face them as they emerged from underground like gremlins. Draco, flanked by Harry on one side, and Ron and Luna on the other, felt his chest seize. _

_It took a lot to make Hermione Granger cry. _

_He should know. _

_So the tears and blood that pooled on the same cold floor he'd learned to walk on sliced him to his very core. He saw red for a moment, and couldn't hear the voices of his mother and father, surprised, shocked and horrified. His brand burned in response to this betrayal. _

_Then suddenly, of all the creatures and persons that could have chosen that moment to appear, Dobby popped into the midst. The rest of it spun away from them in a blur of spells and coarse-changing actions. Suddenly, he was duelling his own father; blind white rage coursing through him like boiling alcohol. He'd seen his mother fall, enveloped in brilliant green light and he knew she was dead, but it still hadn't affected him. He was half in denial; he was going to kill Lucius for this. This crime that he couldn't yet acknowledge was real. _

_He was dimly aware of spinning around and firing a spell off, then being suddenly Disarmed and heard his own voice ordering Dobby to _get them the hell out of here _when the hall doors were thrown wide open. _

_Then pain. _

"'Mione? You have to eat...oh fuck"

Somewhere it registered that in all the years and all the situations that she'd been in with Harry, she'd never heard him swear and she giggled. She blinked water from her eyes and twisted so she could see the open door, Harry crouching beside her while Ron turned off the water.

"How'd you open the door?" her voice didn't sound like it belonged to her. It was too tired, too old, too hoarse. She listened to the words bounce off the tiles and tried to concentrate on Ron's voice as he forced himself into a merry tone.

"Well we had to pick sommat up from you, after all this time"

She realised she was being hoisted a long way up into work-hardened arms, her wet body pressed against a big, deep chest. Ron, she said to herself, not realising she was speaking out loud.

"...only one who smells like that. Always like Ron's aftershave and you always smell like grass and your mum's vegetable garden, even if you've been away from the Burrow all year..." her voice trailed off and became thick with tears.

"...but Draco smells like expensive cologne...and ice...I never thought ice had a small till I kissed him...and ironing. Warm, fresh ironing...made-makes me think of home..."

Ron carried her into the room Fleur had made up for her as Harry ran for the part-Veela woman. He settled her on the bed and stripped off her soaked shirt and jeans, blushing as he did and hoping desperately she wouldn't mind. She lay still for a moment in her singlet and briefs and then sat up, curling with her knees to her chest again. Ron looked helplessly at Harry, who shrugged as Fleur swore softly in French, both just as helpless. Ron looked down at her just as she looked up and met his eyes.

"I need some dry clothes"

She sat up.

"Are you okay?"

She looked down and saw he was holding her arm carefully. Frowning, she shook him off.

"I'm not incapable Ronald. Out, you two, I need to get changed"

The boy's visibly relaxed in perfect unison at her sharp tone. Gathering themselves, they left her with Fleur and went downstairs. There, Ron collapsed onto the couch and let his head loll back onto the back. Harry shook his head with a heavy sigh and turned to make them all some tea.


End file.
